Lovesick Fools
by Avalon Estel
Summary: Valentine's Day in Rivendell: an upcoming ball, a notsosecret admirer, scheming twins, and chaos galore! Quarter Finalist in the 2005 Mithril Awards. [Twoshot: COMPLETE]
1. The Shocking Beginning

Lovesick Fools

A/N: I'm sorry to say that I think this is becoming a trend with me… First Christmas parodies, now Valentine's Day… I don't even _celebrate _these things (religious purposes, being Muslim and all), yet I parody them. Please RR, and if you do, please don't curse. Also, in this fic, Arwen is equivalent to five years of age, the twins are thirteen, and Legolas is sixteen. Just thought you should know. I don't want you thinking this is _adult_ Arwen I've got doing these things. That, my friends, wouldn't be right.This is dedicated to my sisters Alu and Arwen for helping out and giving me ideas.

* * *

It was a bright, sunny morning, and not a sound broke the peaceful silence of sleeping Rivendell. 

That is, until Arwen woke up.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she was filled with a great happiness. It took her a moment to remember exactly _why_ she was so happy, but when she did, everyone in the Last Homely House became aware of it, as well.

"It's Valentine's Day!" she shrieked. The Elfling promptly bounced out of bed, bounced into her clothes, bounced out the bedroom door, slammed the bedroom door behind her, bounced down the hall, slammed through the door to Elladan and Elrohir's room, bounced in, and bounced onto their bed.

"Wake up, my dear brothers!" she squeaked, hopping on top of the blankets.

"Arwen, _what_ is the point of getting us up like this?" Elladan muttered sleepily.

"Because it's _Valentine's Day_," Arwen told them matter-of-factly.

"And?" Elrohir murmured.

"And you promised to help me with the you-know-what!" she cried.

The twins groaned simultaneously (something they did quite often).

"Why did I let you promise her that?" Elrohir asked.

"Excuse me, brother? You were the one who promised," Elladan protested.

"I refrain from comment."

"I don't care who it was, _both_ of you are getting up _now_!" Arwen screeched.

The twins chose to obey.

Twenty minutes later, the three were downstairs, taking inventory of the kitchen pantry, trying to decide what to use that night. Lindir, official harpist and musician of Rivendell (the author invented that title), ambled into the pantry in search of a jar of peanut butter, having already consumed one that morning.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked suspiciously. _Trying to steal my peanut butter, no doubt!_, he added mentally.

"No, we're not trying to steal your peanut butter," Elrohir said, having been accused (mentally _and_ out loud) enough times to know what was on Lindir's mind. "We're trying to decide what to make for Ada and Ammë tonight."

"Special dinner, huh?" Lindir asked, surveying the shelves. There! He reached up and snatched the jar down.

"I swear, Lindir, you're addicted," Elladan said, shaking his head.

"Yes!" Arwen piped up, answering the harpist's question. "We want to make them a _very_ special dinner."

"I shur you bill," Lindir said through a mouthful of brown gloop.

"Um, peanut butter, Lindir," Elladan told him meaningfully.

Lindir swallowed. "I said, I'm sure you will."

"Thanks!" Arwen giggled as he strolled off.

The twins began planning out what they wanted to cook. They didn't know much in the way of cooking, but they were going to try, anyway. They could probably convince Morwen, the cook, to help. Arwen, meanwhile, sat in the corner of the kitchen, suddenly frowning and sullen. She sighed deeply and loudly, trying to attract attention.

"How about some of that cake Ada liked so much? You know, the one they made in Mirkwood?" Elrohir asked, not noticing Arwen's not-so-subtle gesture.

"No. You can't eat cake for dinner!" Elladan replied.

"You're right."

Arwen sighed again. They paid no mind, being too engrossed in the recipe book. The third time, Elrohir looked up.

"What's wrong, Arwen?" he asked, used to the demand for notice.

"No one loves me," she sighed.

"We love you, 'Wen!" Elrohir told her.

"Well, duh!" Arwen cried. "I know _you _love me. That's your job. I mean really _love_ me. Like Ada and Ammë!"

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other. Elladan grinned mischievously. "Well, there _is_ someone who loves you," he said.

Arwen looked up. "Who?"

"Glorfindel. He dances around when you come in the room."

"He does?" Arwen cried gleefully. Then she glared at them. "Wait a minute. How come _I_ never see him?"

"He doesn't do it around you," Elrohir said sensibly.

"Oh."

"Why don't you go tell him that you love him, too?" Elladan asked.

"No. How about we make a card?" Arwen asked.

"Okay!" Elrohir said. "We'll help you!"

* * *

Glorfindel and Erestor stood in the corridor outside the Hall of Fire, watching the Elves of Imladris run back and forth, taking things in and out. They had planned a large ball for that night, and they were preparing for it. Suddenly, Arwen came running down the hallway with a piece of paper in hand. She slapped the paper into Glorfindel's hand, hugged his leg, then turned tail and disappeared down the hall. 

"What is it?" Erestor asked.

Glorfindel turned the card so that he was looking at the front, then groaned and said, "A valentine."

Erestor quickly stifled a laugh. "What's it say?"

"I don't know yet," Glorfindel told him, pulling the card out of the envelope. He flipped the card open and read the inscription inside.

_Dear Glorfindel,_

_Your hair is long  
__So golden and shiny,  
__And I sure am glad  
__That you are not whiny!_

_Love, hugs, and kisses,  
__Arwen_

"Oh, dear Valar," he whispered, shaking his head. His face had turned bright red.

Erestor read the card. "Lucky you, lover-boy!" he teased, punching Glorfindel's arm.

"Thanks for the moral support," Glorfindel said sarcastically as Erestor walked off, laughing.

"What makes you go scarlet, Lord Glorfindel?" asked one of the Elves, carrying a large box of tinsel.

"I'd rather not say."

Another Elf snatched the card from Glorfindel's hand and read it out loud to everyone. They all burst into hysterical laughter, and one Elf, who was just walking down the hall, choked so badly on his tea that he passed out and had to go to the infirmary.

"I know where you could take the Lady Arwen tonight!" one Elf jeered.

"And where would that be?" Glorfindel asked, annoyed.

"To the infirmary!"

"That doesn't make sense," Glorfindel said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yes, it does! She's lovesick!" The Elf proceeded to fall over laughing.

"Yeah, yeah! Laugh it up!" Glorfindel scoffed. He strode down the hall, his head high and cheeks flaming. Elladan and Elrohir found him and fell into step beside him.

"You had something to do with this, didn't you?" he asked, waving the card.

"Yeah!" Elladan chuckled. "We helped write it! But she insisted on putting in the shiny hair." He emphasized by pulling on and twirling a long strand of Glorfindel's hair.

Glorfindel halted in his tracks. "Do you have any idea how many times I could have dropped you as babies?"

The twins said nothing.

"That's what I thought," Glorfindel nodded. "And just so you know, I still have a few chances."

They took that as a warning, and were gone in a flash. Oh, what was he going to do?

* * *

A/N: This will be updated tomorrow, so that I can finish it by Valentine's Day. Hope you like it! 


	2. The Breathtaking Conclusion

Lovesick Fools

A/N: Haha, I've done it! IT LIVES!

_

* * *

Chapter Two _

"Just one more candle," Elladan said, lighting the last one in the candelabra.

Elrohir was completing silverware arrangements. "Why don't you go give Ada and Ammë the invitations?" he suggested. Morwen, the head cook, had helped them put a dinner together, once they'd explained to her why they were making a dinner before sunset anyway. Now, everything was ready.

"Oh, can I help?" Arwen asked. She was positively giddy with excitement.

"I guess," Elladan sighed. He handed her one of the two cream-colored envelopes. "Go give this to Ammë, but put where she'll find it. Don't just go hand it to her, like you did with Glorfindel. Be secret about it."

"Secret. Got it!" she whispered, then bounded out of the kitchen and down the hall to Celebrían's room.

"Let's hope she doesn't mess up," Elrohir said dubiously.

Elladan snorted. "Yeah, right."

Once Arwen neared the door of her mother's room, she sidled up to the wall and peeked around the slightly closed door. Celebrían stood in the window, running a brush through her long blonde hair and humming some tune her daughter didn't recognize. Arwen stifled a giggle and shot into the room, dropped the envelope on her mother's vanity dresser, and shot back out, but not before Celebrían had spotted the end of her dark red party dress going out the door.

The Elf-woman grinned and walked over to the dresser. She picked it up, and hearing the soft giggling of Arwen from outside the door, said, "Goodness gracious, I wonder who this can be from!"

Arwen giggled harder, then burst through the door and sang, "You don't know, and I'm gonna tell you!"

Luckily, at that moment, Elladan was walking down the hall, and saw what she was doing. He ran in, grabbed his little sister and dragged her down the hall, scolding her all the way.

Ten minutes later, Celebrían and Elrond had come down to the kitchen wearing their best, prepared for the ball that night.

"Oh, who could have put together such a lovely little feast for us, Elrond?" Celebrían asked with a wink at her husband. She could hear the children trying to keep their voices down as they whispered and laughed triumphantly behind the door.

"I do so wonder, my love," Elrond grinned.

"Perhaps we should sit down and eat," Celebrían said, barely able to suppress an urge to chuckle.

"Yes," Elrond agreed, pulling out her chair. "It would be a shame to let such delicious-looking food go to waste."

Celebrían did laugh. "That it would!"

The children silently slunk away to get ready for the ball and give their parents some privacy.

* * *

That night, all the Elves made their way to the Hall of Fire, and the ball began. They were all dressed in their finest. They were dancing in couples, mostly husbands and wives, or fathers and daughters. There were clusters of Elves chatting and enjoying themselves. There was one Elf, however, who was not among them. 

And that was Glorfindel.

"_Must_ we sit here, Arwen?" he asked, almost desperately. She had his arm in a death grip, and had been forcing him to sit on a bench next to her for the past half hour.

"Oh, but it's so _romantic_," she sighed.

Glorfindel laughed bitterly. "Right."

A little bit later, a serving Elf walked up to them. "Can I offer you a drink, Lord Glorfindel?" she asked good-naturedly.

Glorfindel started to say yes, when Arwen leapt off the bench, stomped as hard as she could on the Elf-maiden's foot, and shouted, "Get away from my man!"

The Elf-maid yelped in pain and dropped the tray, sending a cascade of shattered glass across the floor as it struck the ground. Everyone within a ten-foot radius heard and turned to see what the commotion was, and that included Erestor, much to Glorfindel's horror. As the dark-haired advisor started towards them, Glorfindel got to the floor and began helping the Elf-maid gather up the broken bits of glass.

"I'm so sorry," he said as she picked up the tray. "I don't know _what _got into her."

"Everything's fine," she chuckled. She walked off, still laughing.

"Hear that, Glor?" Erestor joked. "You're her _man_."

"I will not restrain myself," the Vanya threatened, lifting a fist at him.

"I think I heard Lord Elrond calling me!" Erestor said quickly, and dodged away.

Elrond, who was standing a few feet away, looked up and said, "No, I didn't."

Glorfindel glared at Erestor's retreating back.

"Oh, Glorfindel!" sang a voice from behind him.

Glorfindel slumped back onto the bench, sighing and burying his face in his hands as Arwen seized his arm again.

Lindir, meanwhile, was having a very good time talking to an Elf-maiden that he'd liked for quite a while.

"I – I want you to have this," he said shyly, pulling out a jar of peanut butter from behind his back and handing it to her.

She laughed nervously. "It's…lovely. And I see you glued a heart on it," she said, holding it out at arm's-length.

Lindir grinned bashfully. "It says, 'Be mine'."

"I can see that," she said. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Oh, the look on your face is enough," Lindir said. "It was hard to part with it, but I realized that my love for you was greater."

"How sweet." She laughed again (though it was fake). _Valar,_ she thought, _I don't even _like _peanut butter!_

Arwen had insisted that Glorfindel dance with her, so now the Elf-Lord was waltzing with the Elflling in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist so he could support her. She had her head on his shoulder and would sigh dramatically from time to time, causing him to sigh as well and roll his eyes. As he turned, he caught sight of a group of Elf-maids watching them, some laughing and others saying, "Aw!" This made him sigh even more.

Finally, he stopped dancing. "Arwen?" he said.

"Hhmmm?" she replied, sounding blissful.

"Can I ask you something, dear?"

"Ask me anything, my love."

Glorfindel felt sick. "Uh…I was wondering why you love me so much."

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, pulling back and looking at him. "You're nice, you love _me_, you're special, and you have _long, shiny, blonde_ hair."

Glorfindel began to think. He had to come up with some sort of plan. He had to get away from her! Was he _really_ expected to spend Valentine's Day dancing with his best friend's daughter? Not on your life!

He looked around the room, and his eyes fell on a single Elf, one just barely into adulthood. Yes, he'd be the perfect victim, as he'd put honey on Glorfindel's pillow the last time they'd been around each other. Glorfindel shuddered as he remembered how long it had taken to get the sticky golden stuff out of his hair.

"Well, you know who _else_ is special?" he asked.

Arwen furrowed a brow. "Who could be specialer than you?"

"Prince Legolas."

She gave him a doubtful look. "Legolas? You mean that guy who's always shooting arrows around?"

"Always shooting arrows around?" Glorfindel asked with mock incredulity. "He's the best archer in Greenwood!"

"I don't know," Arwen said.

"And he has shiny blonde hair," the Elf-Lord added.

"He does?" she squeaked.

"He does," Glorfindel confirmed.

"So you don't mind if I spend the rest of the evening with him?" she asked.

"Not at all."

"You won't be heartbroken?"

"Nope. I'll miss you, but I understand that your heart lies elsewhere."

"Okay!"

Glorfindel set her down and she ran across the room.

With a grin, he set off toward the Elf-maids who'd been watching them. He knew the shiny-hair thing would work, because she'd been obsessed with his and Celebrían's since she was born.

Arwen made her way through the crowds and threw her arms around a blue-robed waist. "I love you, Legolas!" she cried.

A deep voice chuckled. "I'm not Legolas, little one."

Arwen looked up and saw that she was hugging King Thranduil. "Oops," she said.

"I'm sorry," he laughed. "Legolas is my son. He's over there." He pointed to the right, where Legolas was standing, looking awkward and embarrassed.

"Thank you!" Arwen said, curtsying. She ran off. Thranduil began laughing uncontrollably as she flung herself at his son and cried, "I love you, Legolas!"

Legolas looked down at her. "Uh…Lady Evenstar, what are you talking about?"

"I love you, that's what I'm talking about!"

"Oh, of course," the prince said. He looked up at Elladan and Elrohir, who were standing a bit off. They looked at him. He glared at them. They raised their eyebrows in question. He pointed at their sister. A look of terror invaded their faces. Elladan looked at Glorfindel, who looked at him. When the Elf-maid beside him turned around, he shot them a thumbs-up. This wordless conversation, complicated though it was, took place in a matter of seconds.

Needless to say, the twins were not pleased.

The rest of the evening, Arwen stuck to Legolas like the glue that Lindir had smeared on the peanut butter jar, despite the prince's many attempts to ward her off.

Later on, Thranduil sidled up to Elrond and Celebrían. "I don't think we'll have to wait until next year to see one another again," he said.

"And why do you say that?" Celebrían asked.

"Look there," he told her, pointing at Arwen and Legolas, who was trudging along as the Elfling skipped beside him, swinging his arm back and forth.

Elrond laughed. "Perhaps we should arrange a marriage between them."

"How would the children feel?" Celebrían asked, feigning an anxious look.

"I don't think our daughter would find any problems," Elrond said.

The three adults broke into hysterical laughter.

After the ball was over, the twins joined Legolas at the refreshment table. Arwen was asleep in Celebrían's lap.

"So," Elrohir began, "what do you think of Arwen?"

"She's cute," Legolas said, surveying the remainder of the pastries on the table.

"And you're not going to kill us?" Elladan asked.

"I think I should," Legolas replied.

"Why?" they asked in unison.

"It was Glorfindel who sent her off to you!" Elrohir cried.

"I don't blame him," Legolas said, turning to them.

"I thought you said she was cute!" Elladan protested.

"She is, in a sticky sort of way. And not Lindir-sticky."

The twins laughed nervously.

"And besides, I don't have much of a chance against a Balrog-Slayer anyway. Do I?" Legolas continued.

"No, I don't think you do," Elladan said.

"But I have a _much _better chance in a fight with you two."

Erestor came up beside Legolas. "You're one lucky young Elf," the advisor grinned.

"Why?" asked the prince.

"Because a beauty like Arwen is so stuck on you."

"Will you quit picking on people?" Glorfindel cried, slapping Erestor on the back of the head.

"Hey!" Erestor retaliated by whacking Glorfindel in the same place.

The younger Elves sat down beside their respective parents to watch the fight that broke out.

Yes, Valentine's Day in Rivendell is a merry time, indeed.

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to everyone who reviewed: 

Ithiliel Silverquill: I think I caused a bit of confusion. I don't celebrate the religious aspect of Valentine's Day, but sometimes my dad will bring my mom flowers or candy, and as kids, me and my siblings had the parties at school. Sorry 'bout that. ; There's your answer! Yes, the twins are very evil beings…but we all love 'em anyway!

Here comes the hockey puck: Actually, I based Arwen off my little sister, who's also five. Hee hee, I'm mean:D

Malara: Oh, yes, the peanut butter thing is an inside joke. It all started with a story called "A New Form of Torture"… (bursts into hysterical laughter) I'm glad you like this. I do so love those random things. I've choked on drinks many times in my life, to tell you the truth.

Estelendur: Glad you like:D

I'd like to thank anyone who reviews this in the future beforehand. I really appreciate it and hope you like it.

And to all: Happy Valentine's Day!


End file.
